


Lullaby

by Alliswell



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Insomniac!Peeta, Serendipitous Scenarios, Sex Line Operator!Katniss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-23 23:04:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10729122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alliswell/pseuds/Alliswell
Summary: Desperate for sleep, a lonely veteran calls a sex line, looking for respite, finding more than he expected to get.Originally posted on tumblr many moons ago, for my dearest Loving-Mellark. (Updated)





	Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Loving-Mellark](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Loving-Mellark), [shannon17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shannon17/gifts).



> Work of fanfiction, since I own nothing, not even the plot ;)
> 
> Unbetead, but revised and updated from its original post on Tumblr. 
> 
> A bit of background: I wrote this one shot a very long time ago (two years, maybe?) in response to this prompt, Loving-Mellark got from an anonymous ask: "I called you because I was curious and wow you have a very soothing voice can you please sing me to sleep’ AU PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE Everlark perfection", Loving-Mellark is a very talented artist, but she turned down the prompt because as she puts it, she's not a writer, she did however left it open for someone else to pick it up and write it, so I went for it... hope y'all like it, and thank you Shannon17 for digging it up for me to post here.

It didn't used to be this way, but he’s become an insomniac.

He has tried pretty much everything: sleeping pills, therapy, white noise makers, even hypnosis. Nothing ever works, he really can't shut down and go to sleep anymore, the longest he has managed is a few precious hours of rest. 

  
The recurring nightmares that wake him screaming, panting and covered in cold sweat, souvenir from his last tour in the 'Sandbox' where he lost his leg and half his brothers in arms would've been reason enough to keep him from sleeping, but what actually broke the fine thread keeping him from collapsing, was witnessing his father's deterioration with illness until his passing right before his helpless eyes. Taking over the business and all the stress of having to deal with inheritance and debts and endless seas of paperwork also put a strain on his fragile psyche.

There was a natural fear, that sprung from moving back into the house he barely escaped from, by joining the army after all those years of child abuse by his mother’s own hands.

He’s exhausted, and he knows he can’t keep on going like this any longer. 

  
His head doctor recommended him to do soothing stuff before bed to calm his nerves and frayed mind, and he does that for the most part; he keeps his iPod on with easy listening music, he paints about his time abroad the ugly and the pretty, he drinks warm milk sweetened with honey every night, his brother even got him a new, better, more expensive white-noise maker as a housewarming gift, but he didn’t even bother unwrapping it.

His eyes are so sunk into his skull, the dark rings under his eyes such deep purple, people is beginning to look at him with the same concern they looked at his dad during his convalescence. Not even when he lost his leg people looked at him with _that_ expression.

One day, his best friend Finn stops by, they share a beer while sitting out on the balcony of his apartment above his bakery; after a few minutes of mundane, inconsequential chatter, Finn asks, "Dude, when was the last time you got laid?"

As with everything else, Finn theorizes a 'good fuck' should fix his worldly problems, including lack of sleep, but thinking about pursuing women for physical gratification brings a new host of fears to the forefront of his mind.

He’s a cripple, no woman will find him attractive. He’s not into one night stands, and he's lost all his confidence in dating after his ex-fiancée broke off their two year long engagement, because she was disgusted by his prosthetic. He wouldn't be able to handle the rejection and mockery again. No. Sex with a real person won’t do.

But, is another miserable night in which he didn’t even wasted time going into his bedroom, what's the point of laying in bed awake for endless hours, pretending, hoping, begging for sleep to come, cradle him into oblivion's sweet arms? It's so hopeless, he just sits at his tiny breakfast nook, bracing for another long night, reading yesterday’s paper, when he comes across a curious add:

  
_Trouble sleeping_?

  
_It’s alright! Our girls are awake too_!

_  
Calls us now, **555-GRL-FIRE.** We guaranty you a pleasant time, and even better dreams!_

_  
Surges and other charges may apply. You must be 18 to call._

_Yadah, yadah, yadah..._

  
He hesitates for a moment, toying with the idea.

Finn is right, he hasn’t had a released in so long he can’t even remember when was the last time. He hasn’t even helped himself in weeks, and the prospect of talking to an actual person is tempting. He’s desperate for sleep enough to try it… The advert did promised a pleasant time!

  
He picks up his cellphone from the iHome dock, killing the notes of the classical  music playing on his iPod, and without giving himself a chance to chicken out,  dials the number listed in the add.

  
A pleasant enough artificial voice of a machine answers the call:

_  
“You have reached Girl on Fire Services, we supply with live chat over the phone with beautiful ladies, that will strive to indulge you in your wildest fantasies. Charges of up to $5 the first minute will apply directly to your telephone company and reflected on your next bill. This call will be monitored and it might be recorded for security reasons. Your phone number and information, although protected under our privacy agreement, will remain in our records for up to thirty days, after which will be discarded. If you accept this terms and conditions, please remain on the line and you’ll be transfer to our first available operator. Remember, you must be eighteen or older to continue this call. Thank you for choosing Girl On Fire, we are here to please you!”_

  
He’s about to hang up, all the reasons why he shouldn’t have made the call fill his mind; it was a silly idea to begging with and now his number will be saved in some seedy sex line thing, what if he gets in some kind of legal trouble for this? But before he can do anything, he’s stopped by the sound of the sweetest, most melodious voice he’s ever heard.

  
“Welcome to Girl on Fire, this is Dandelion speaking… How are you tonight?”

  
“H-hi, um… I’m alright I guess.”

  
“That's great! So how can I help you tonight, sweetie?”

  
He sighs heavily, shaking his head as he speaks. “Look… this was a bad idea. I don’t know what I’m doing… I know you must get paid for calls answered and I truly don’t wanna waste your time. You sound sweet and everything, and I  appreciate you even taking my call, but I think I’m just gonna go…”

  
“Hey! Wait! Don’t go! Let’s just have a chat for a moment. You are not wasting my time, I promise." She releases a small nervous laugh that inexplicably roots him to his stool, "I would love to help you unwind in any way I can,” Her voice is so nice, silky-soft, but he senses a tinge of urgency deep in her plead for him to stay on the line, so he acquiesces against his better judgment.

  
“Okay. I guess I could use a chat. I just don’t know how to go about this. I’ve never done anything like it before.”

  
“Why don’t we start with something easy?” She proposes soothingly.

  
“Like what?” His curiosity picked. 

  
“Uh… let's see. What’s you favorite color?” She sounds a bit sheepish, then she laughs this musical noise that relaxes his tense shoulders, “I’m sorry. I’m awful at small talk, which is ironic giving my line of work”

  
“No, it’s fine. Right now I suck at small talk too!” He chuckles.

Her laugh is enchanting. He thinks he could stay on the phone for hours if she laughs like that again.

“My favorite color is orange, but not bright orange. More like the hue you see in the sky when the sun is setting. That kind of soft orange.”

  
“Oh wow, that’s nice. Very poetic,” she says with an edge of admiration.

  
He chuckles, “Sure. If you say so." He pauses, then timidly asks, "So, what’s yours? Your favorite color, I mean?”

  
“Green. Like in a forest.” Pause. Another laugh from her, this one sounds nervous. “I’m sorry, I wish I could conjure up an image as nice as the one you just did a moment ago when describing sunset orange. I truly am awful at this,” more laughter, “But, I like the way you talk, you sound like you are some kind of writer, poet or some type of artist. You definitely have a way with words. It’s nice!” She gushes.

  
“Oh… Um, no, I’m actually an Afghanistan veteran turned baker. The only art I do is with frosting, and I am _not_ that great with words," he chuckles, "I just ramble mostly. It’s just lucky my thoughts are magically coherent!” He says with self deprecating humor.

  
“Well, you could have fooled me! Of course, I don’t know that many veterans. You sound young, though." She pauses again, then in a palpably softer tone, she asks, "When you say ‘veteran’ my mind goes to old grandpa type men, your voice doesn't quite fit my mental image. Sorry.” She sounds guilty. 

  
“Nah, don't apologize about it, it's okay to ask. I’m 31. You?”

  
She laughs loudly, fully. “You won’t believe this! It's so cheesy! I swear I’m not saying it because you just did, but I’m 31 as well!”

  
“Really? When is your birthday?”

  
“May 8th, I was born in 86.” She says and he can hear the smile in her voice.

  
“That’s awesome, I was born in 86 too!”

  
“So, when did you joined the military, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  
“Summer of 2004, fresh out of high school”

  
“Oh wow… Your parents most be proud of you” she says with true admiration in her voice.

  
“Actually, no. They really aren’t. Well, my dad was, but he just died, five months ago, and my mother…” He sighs trailing off, then stops talking altogether.

  
“I’m sorry to hear,” says the girl on fire after a long pause. “I know how it feels to lose a parent. But if it means anything, I appreciate your sacrifice to our country. Thank you for help keeping us safe, really.”

  
“You’re welcome, I suppose. I didn’t really join the army with the noble intention of keeping our country safe, but after being there, and meeting the people I did, the ones that truly believed in America and sacrificed for our grater good… That’s when everything came into perspective. Yeah, I guess serving my country is about the only good thing I’ve ever done.”

  
“Well, you are very brave. Not everyone has the guts to go out there and face war, whatever your reasons might’ve been then. You did it, and now you’re here. I wish I had have the opportunity of doing what you did. Go on, sign up into the service, but I just couldn’t risked being deployed, I’m needed here.” She doesn't elaborate and he doesn't want to be nosy, asking questions that weren't his business.

  
“Yeah, although, I think is better you didn’t join. War ain’t very pretty. So, forgive me if I’m too forward and know you don’t to have to answer but, I’m just curious, How did you land in this line of business? I don’t mean to pry or offend you. It’s just… You know what? Forget it… That was stupid.”

  
“Oh no! It’s not stupid! Actually after hearing you share so much of yourself with me, I think it'll be rude of me not to share something myself. Um… It’s a very long story, but I inherited certain responsibilities from my parents, and I’ve been working ever since I was very young. I had to drop out of school when I was a teenager, I struggled with getting a GED and now I’m doing some college online. This job was meant to supplement my finances. I mean I don’t have to get naked or anything, just talk dirty and my job is done.” She laughs, but it's not the same musical sound from before, its heavy and mirthless.

His cheeks warm up with a thought that magically materializes in his mind's eye, and he dashes it instantly, embarrassed and disgusted with himself. She clearly doesn't enjoy 'talking dirty', so he chastises his brain for wondering what she'd sound like if he asked her to fake a moan. 

  
But his mouth has taken a mind of its own, before he can stop himself, the words are espacing his lips, like dam has been broken, "So… Um… Are you good at it? At dirty talk?”

Disgusted with himself, he almost hangs up mortified, but her full belly laugh stops him in his tracks, confusing him momentarily.

  
“I’m okay at it." She admits amusedly. "There are some girls that are excellent, and can get their callers off their rockers in no time. Me… I like this kind of conversation better.” She says and once more he thinks he can hear her smile in her voice.

He actually likes the conversation too.

  
“So… I’m going out on a limb here and assume, ‘Dandelion’ is not your real name? Is there any chance I could get your real name?” He can’t hide the hopefulness in his voice, she doesn’t answer right away, but when she does, she sounds sorry.

  
“Your guess is right, but for security and privacy reasons, I’m not allowed to give out my personal information, nor am I allowed to ask you for yours either. I’m so sorry.”

  
“No. That’s fine. I knew it was a long shot." He stays quiet for moment, then he asks the question nigking at the back of his mind, "Look, what are the chances that if I call back, I'd get you again?”

  
“I would say slim to none. We have about fifty other operators just in this shift, chances are we will never talk again.” Her answer is almost regretful.

  
“Okay. So this might sound weird to you, but I have a request,”

  
“Oh..." he senses a dash of disappointment in her tone that she quickly covers up, "No problem, nothing you want me to say, or do, will be weird” she sounds more business like than a second ago.

  
“Right… this isn’t anything sexual or anything," he starts with trepidation, "Well, I think I should be honest before I go on. I first called, because I wanted to talk to someone who could encourage me to, you know- get me off so I could go to sleep. I haven't been able to sleep in weeks... months really. But after talking to you, I realized I don’t really need the gratification. You have a very soothing voice, you know. Very sweet." She's as quiet as a tomb, but I continue as calmly as I can.

"Um… will it be weird if I asked you to… Um… sing for me? I can't help but think that your voice, is the most soothing, beautiful thing I've ever heard, I believe I might just be relaxed enough to go to sleep just listening to you all night.”

  
There is a pregnant silence for a while. He starts to panic, thinking the call might have dropped, or that she hanged up on him for wasting her time. He brings the phone up to his face so he can see if the call is indeed still running. Satisfied that he's still connected, and the seconds keep ticking away in his screen, he brings back the phone to his ear.

  
“Dandelion, are you still there?” He asks frantically.

  
“Yes, sorry. I’m still here, yes! Um, I haven’t- I haven’t sing for anyone other than my sister when she was little, and that was years ago. I-I guess- I guess I could sing for you if you think it'll help you sleep... I guess, just lay down comfortably and let me know when you’re ready.” She sounds a little hesitant, but also a little surprised by the request.

  
He doesn’t lose any time, he plops down on his couch and breathes deeply. He fixes the cushions into a more comfortable position, and then says breathlessly into the phone.

  
“Ready!”

  
“Alright. So, I used to sing this song to my sister when she had nightmares. I hope it helps you, okay?” She takes a deep breath, and then her silky voice turns to smooth caramel.

_  
“Deep in the meadow,_

_Under the Willow,_

_A bed of grass,_

_a soft green pillow…”_

  
She starts out soft, but the more she sings the stronger her voice sounds, and he can’t believe his ears. She’s amazing! His eyelids are so heavy, but he doesn’t want to close his eyes; he’s afraid he will lose her if he dozes off, he has no idea who she is, he doesn't know her real name, but there is a pretty good chance his heart will never recover from loosing this moment.

How can someone be a goner solely with the sound of a voice?

Ah, shit! The idea Spring to his mind then, she's not allowed to give him her information, but there's nothing she can do if he gives her his, he could tell her his name! He sits up abruptly, about to tell her who he is and to look him up on Facebook or something. His name is unique enough, she won't have any trouble finding the right _Peeta Mellark_ , but to his horror, sunlight is filtering through the thin curtains of his living room windows.

Could he have fallen asleep after all? He fought so hard to stay awake! Will he ever hear from the girl on fire with the voice of an angel ever again?

  
He finally let’s his head fall into his hands and rubs harsh circles over his eyes with the heel of his hands. How could his body betray him like this, finding sleep when he actually needed to stay awake? It’s a moot point. It’s not like she was interested in him or anything. Plus he’s a cripple! She would probably take a look at him and find him repulsive.

He looks at the screen of his phone. If he takes a three minute shower and forgoes breakfast, he'll be able to open up shop with a decent amount of freshly baked goods to serve his costumers. He's done it before. So he does it again.

 

* * *

 

  
It’s almost closing time when he hears the little bell above the front door of the bakery ring. He’s tired and ready to go back to his empty, lonely home upstairs, but he comes from under the counter he's cleaning, to help whoever just came in. The open sign is still hanging on the window and there's still five minutes on the clock before he can flip it over to closed. 

  
He’s pleasantly surprised to find a beautiful woman standing behind his counter.

She has luscious olive skin and the most striking grey eyes he’s ever seen in his life, she’s fidgeting with the end of the thick, long braid her shiny, dark hair is in. She looks a bit nervous, her eyes darting quickly to every corner of the bakery.

He smiles at her politely, “Hello, there! Welcome to Mellark’s, how may I help you?”

Her eyes finally land on his, and her mouth simply drops open, her hands that had been twisting and twirling the end of her braid fall listlessly to her sides. She’s staring at him like she can’t believe her eyes, and finally lowers her gaze, blushing. Which definitely suits her, he decides.

  
“Um… Are you Peeta?”

  
Her voice. It gives him pause. He looks at her with wide eyes. Could this even be real?

His brain screams ' _Yes! I’m Peeta_ … _Actually I’ll be whoever you want me to be_!’ but his mouth doesn't move, his voice fails him, he can only nod stupidly.

  
“Good! I-- Uh... I’m sorry to come here like this, but I took the liberty of looking up your information,” She looks back at him for a moment, her eyes flit away from his almost as quickly, she looks embarrassed. She swallows thickly, clears her throats and tries to keep going, “I know this isn’t very kosher,  looking up your private information and all, I'm aware I could lose my job if you ever decide to make a complaint about me contacting you," she shifts her purse on her shoulder, her eyes nervously dancing between his and the counter, "But, you asked for my real name, and I thought it was only fair…” Shyly, she places a dandelion on the counter and quickly takes a step back, folding her hands in front of her.

  
He stares at the bright yellow bloom in astonishment. He picks it up and rolls the green stem between his forefinger and thumb, dandelions are considered weeds by most people, but the cheerful little flowers have always reminded him of the sun and happy times. He chances a look at the pretty woman, still standing there ramrod still, biting her lower lip adorably. _He’s definitely a goner now_!

He smiles at her, and she must take it as permission to keep going, because she visibly sighs relaxing her tensed shoulders and soon she’s extending her hand in greeting towards him.

  
“H-hi… my name is Katniss Everdeen, and I suck at small talk!”

  
“That’s alright, small talk is overrated, and we already know each other’s favorite colors, although I think I’m starting to become very partial to dandelion yellow.”

She laughs at that, and it’s a miracle he’s still capable of speech.

“I think we can go straight to discuss the deep stuff.” He says while he still can produce coherent thought.

She arches an eyebrow at him, and shyly asks, "Like what?”

  
“Um, I don’t know… Coffee or Tea, maybe? I’m partial for tea myself. We can discover what the deep stuff is it over your preferred beverage and maybe you can try some of my signature cheese buns?” He poses hopefully.

  
A slow smile blooms on her beautiful face, making his heart stutter. “I’d like that!” She answers softly. “And tea is fine by me too. But you can always bribe me with hot chocolate... it's my weakness.” she smiles teasingly.

  
This feels like just the start of something wonderful! Thank heavens for sleepless nights!

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hello on Tumblr @alliswell21, or simply leave me a comment right below :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
